


And So It Shall Be

by hovercraft



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: (thank you my betas), Banter, Love Confessions, M/M, Poetry, deep conversations between two kings, yes beta we live like kings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25921708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hovercraft/pseuds/hovercraft
Summary: For once in his life, Ozymandias fell silent, watching as the stars came out from the clouds and as the light of the sun finally dimmed. This certainly wouldn’t last forever, but in the moment, he could cherish it all he wanted.(Commission)
Relationships: Gilgamesh | Archer/Ozymandias | Rider
Comments: 9
Kudos: 69





	And So It Shall Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gilswaifu (Resident_of_Fiction)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resident_of_Fiction/gifts).



> This is for Lolly! THANK YOU SO MUCH ;;

Showmanship was a regular sport between Ozymandias and Gilgamesh, in the way they acted, in the way they dressed—every part of them was tailored to be kingly, and for people like them, it was hard not to be drawn to the reflection of their own glory. Respect was hard-earned for both of them, Gilgamesh having quite the ego and Ozymandias having one just the same—but it wasn’t something other servants could understand. In some ways, they were isolated from their peers, but they did have one another—to recount tales of their glory days, past loves, and adventures.

Kings lived a life few were ever privileged to do, and the experiences had shaped them into who they were. Even as spirits, tangible memories of people long past—no part of them was lifeless.

To Gilgamesh, Ozymandias was fascinating.

Someone who could very easily cross the threshold of friend to foe by measuring their abilities did not do that at all. He was _amicable_ , for a king, but his grandiose behavior never lowered itself to make way for kindness. If Ozymandias was kind, he was kind while reminding someone that he was a king and that kings had bigger and better things to be doing, to lower your gaze and speak respectfully—unless it was Ritsuka, whose eyes he could not get enough of.

Gilgamesh’s, as well.

They were exquisite ruby red with slits instead of pupils, a mark of godhood that Ozymandias appreciated fully, even if Gilgamesh spited the gods. Where those eyes came from and what they represented hardly mattered in the face of the ambition, the sly aura that came from them. Ozymandias had married many women in his past life, but he had no doubt that if he saw Gilgamesh back in his heyday, he’d be taken with him from his eyes alone.

He would make him his, but as it were—both were kings, and could not be ‘taken’ from one another so much as earned and kept like they treasured one another.

The walk on the beach during the usual summer nonsense was Ozymandias’ idea. He wanted to get out into the sun, to feel the hot sand beneath his feet as he slipped off his sandals and tried to relive memories long past. Gilgamesh kept his on, but let out a slight ‘heh’ at the sight of him.

“Homesick, Pharaoh? I never took you for the type.”

“Hahaha! Homesick? Never. This is an indulgence, pure and simple. I’m not above enjoying a place as beautiful as this.”

Gilgamesh knew he wasn’t lying or exaggerating—where they were now… was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning, so he couldn’t fault him for wanting to feel the sea breeze and pretend it was cool air coming in from the Nile. Uruk was geographically quite different, but he knew Ozymandias felt at his best in the pure sunlight like this, a rare treat when one was usually held up in Chaldea.

“If you wanted to see beautiful, you should have seen my gardens in their heyday –”

“Hmph! I’m sure they were grand, but not as grand as everything I put into construction while I was alive.”

The banter went on for a few more moments, gentle ribbing that sounded like they were measuring themselves against each other, but it stopped after they reached the gentle, lapping waves of the ocean.

Here was the crux of Gilgamesh’s problem: He only had one friend, and he proudly stated that fact to anyone who would listen.

What was Ozymandias to him, then?

They were close… closer than he was to any other servant in Chaldea. They understood one another. They understood kinghood and everything it entailed—they weren’t failures at their jobs, either—history’s eyes on them showed their good and bad lights, certainly, but they always upheld their images. It was strange having someone keep their eyes so intimately on you because they recognized your strengths—and understood your weaknesses because they _shared_ them. Ozymandias would talk about Moses the same way Gilgamesh spoke of Enkidu, with a deep sense of loss and pride at the same time.

Ozymandias wasn’t his friend, but he wasn’t his colleague or an acquaintance either. Gilgamesh secretly hoped for the privilege of fighting him in another Holy Grail War, to finally see the other side of him that would oppose him, because he was greedy like that and desired to see the whole of a person.

Ozymandias wouldn’t agree with him on that, though.

If told such a thing, he’d say that these days spent with Chaldea were treasures and the fight to save humanity was far more of a blessing and privilege than fighting for mages.

Who was Ozymandias to him, he asked himself again.

He was handsome, devilishly so, and inherited all the beauty the heavens and his gods had to offer. His dark skin and darker hair contrasted with those yellow golden eyes—Gilgamesh wanted all of it so terribly. He’d had many lovers before, but to court someone of Ozymandias’ position would be a bigger challenge, to say the least. For one, he didn’t know if Ozymandias would so willingly give himself away.

This was where they were different.

Ozymandias never viewed love as giving a piece of him away. Love was internal, love was eternal, and it never really went away. He’d loved many brides in his life, his beloved Nefertari as well as several of the mothers of his children. Some more than others, yes, but he never viewed giving away love as an absence, something that you had to forsake pride for. Love, in its simplest terms, was a blessing. If you could love someone, you were gifted with one of the finest pleasures of life.

That’s why Ozymandias didn’t hesitate to drag Gilgamesh into the water after him, but Gilgamesh ever so slightly did.

“Afraid of the water messing up your hair?”

“Nonsense.”

“Then follow me.”

It felt like a command and a request at the same time, but Gilgamesh didn’t wait this time. He waded out into the ocean to his knees, following Ozymandias and letting the gentle waves crash against his shins.

Ozymandias felt at home with Gilgamesh and considered him a dear friend even if the feeling wasn’t mutual due to a sense of pride and loyalty.

Gilgamesh wanted Ozymandias to be something to him, though. He just couldn’t decide what.

How rare would it be to find someone like him again? In all of human history, none quite measured up to Ozymandias in terms of legend. Through his own words—‘look on my works, ye mighty, and despair’, his legend might be etched in stone that was eroded through time but by god, it was still there, just like Gilgamesh. He wanted to keep him like any treasure in his vault, this living, breathing person—he wanted to hoard him to himself and show others how much he loved—

… loved?

Gilgamesh shook his head and decided to speak to empty his mind of meaningless words.

“Ozymandias.”

“Hm?”

“The women and men you loved back when you were alive… what would you do if you ever saw them again?”

“… I’d welcome them back with open arms. Even if they don’t qualify to be in the Throne of Heroes, I miss them dearly. I’d never replace them.”

“…” Gilgamesh fell silent.

“But… that doesn’t mean my heart is so empty that I cannot love another person outside of them.”

“Hah! Don’t act like I’m propositioning you or anything, fool. I’m just—”

“But that’s what you are doing, isn’t it?”

Gilgamesh glanced Ozymandias’ way, who was now staring at him, turned to face him with his hands on his hips. Their summer jackets fluttered in the wind.

“If there’s one thing that’s different between us, Gilgamesh… I think you don’t give away love so freely when it’s one of the best things you can have for someone. You can’t stockpile it in your treasury and give away little bits of it. It’s definitely something to be earned and those requirements can be stacked pretty high, but it’s almost like you’re afraid--”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Gilgamesh asserted.

“Afraid… no, reluctant… to give away something so precious to you.”

Reluctant, at least, was something Gilgamesh could not argue. “And why should I?”

“Because—” Ozymandias leaned in closely. “It’s not a finite resource. There’s only so much gold in the world, and you might own it all, but you can either have a wealth of love or a miserly pile of it. I’d choose the former in a heartbeat.”

This was Ozymandias’ way of flirting with him, no question about it… Gilgamesh’s brief neutral expression flickered into a smug, domineering one in seconds.

“You are definitely flirting with me.”

“Was I supposed to hide it in any way?”

“On the contrary, it’s refreshing,” Gilgamesh’s leer was flickering up and down Ozymandias’ body. “What do you plan to do about it?”

Ozymandias thought for a moment before drawing Gilgamesh closer to him. “Something like this?”

“You’re lucky I’ll permit you to touch me—”

Ozymandias laughed. “And you should feel lucky for the same privilege from me! Do you think I let just anyone sully me with their touch?”

“From the way you look at Master, I’d say so—”

“Nonsense. I just like their charisma, that’s all. They don’t have what you have.”

“What I have? Don’t hold back, tell me what it is that ‘I’ have.”

Ozymandias leaned into Gilgamesh’s shoulder, whispering into his ear. “My unyielding affection.”

Gilgamesh laughed at that, deeply and loudly. Mostly because it sounded so ridiculous, and part of him almost didn’t want to believe it, that Ozymandias held eyes for him beyond their rivalry, and yet— he wanted him badly.

“Well, Ozymandias … now that I have it, I don’t intend to give it back.” Gilgamesh grinned.

“Good, keep it safe. You never know when this will all end and we’ll be on opposite sides of the battlefield.”

“Stop that, I don’t want any miserable talk from you right now,” Gilgamesh crooned, leaning in to ghost Ozymandias’ lips with his own. “You’re the one who said we’re lucky to be here. Stick to that.”

Ozymandias laughed, pressing forward to catch Gilgamesh’s lips in a kiss. This time, he wouldn’t let the other king get away with just a brush—the kiss was deep and Ozymandias had snaked his arm around his waist while holding onto Gilgamesh’s hand with the other. They were naturally competitive kissers—trying to best one another at a game where there were no losers.

Stopping to catch his breath, Ozymandias leaned his forehead against Gilgamesh’s.

“It’s strange… I would be content with what you give me already, and if you walk away tonight with regrets, I won’t pursue you—but I just want more of you, King of Heroes. More than I can possibly say.”

“As if I’d do this with _regrets_ ,” Gilgamesh spoke as if it were a tarnished word. “Come, Ozymandias! Show me how a king takes another king. Don’t disappoint me!”

As if Gilgamesh had given him permission, Ozymandias scooped him up into his arms and waded out further into the water as the orange-pink sun set on the ocean. Gilgamesh wrapped his arms around his shoulders, kissing him and drinking his fill of him, selfishly taking what Ozymandias had promised him. If he was going to commit to this, he’d better do it right.

Ozymandias did, indeed own up to it. While he was tempted to drop Gilgamesh into the water to kiss him beneath the surface, he didn’t—there would be time for that later in their vacation, to take him by surprise. He wanted this moment to be special, where all of Chaldea knew who the kings favored the most. To most of them, this wouldn’t be a surprise at all—the magnetism between Gilgamesh and Ozymandias was already so transparent that it hardly needed to be exposed.

\--

The night settled in, and, after grabbing drinks from a beachside bar, the two lounged in chairs as the breezy air grew cooler now that the sun had set, its only remnants in the sky being a light blue on the horizon that was quickly closing in to nightfall.

Gilgamesh’s drink was a deceptively simple glass of wine, while Ozymandias’ was a neon blue, mixed with god knows how many liquors and flavors. He was the type of man who wanted to try a little bit of everything, and so he did.

“What will you do when we get back to Chaldea?” Gilgamesh asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Will you leave this summer romance at the door? Or will you carry it in with you?”

“ _Now_ you’re insulting me,” Ozymandias evenly responded. “I don’t forget about anything or anyone that I love. When I bring you back to Chaldea, you had better get used to me.”

“Good answer,” Gilgamesh quipped back, taking a sip of wine. “I don’t intend to let go of the King of Kings either.”

There was something warm about the way Gilgamesh said it that heated Ozymandias up on the inside. Rarely did Gilgamesh show that kind of affection, and though they were close and had been since meeting, it felt… new, for him. Like Gilgamesh’s words were reserved for so precious few that he’d suddenly been let inside a VIP room.

Ozymandias wasn’t the type to squander what Chaldea had offered him: peace and the right to fight for it. Even in these moments between chaos, he was surprised that he could even find love. More serious servants might have scoffed at the idea, said ‘there’s no point, your memories might not even remain of this place’, and while he thought himself a sensible person, Ritsuka had treated them all like people. Like coworkers. He could even stand beside the people he fought in the last Holy Grail War he’d been a part of without thinking that he might have to try and kill them again one day.

“Gilgamesh.”

“Yes?”

“Between the two of us, I’m sure we can find a good reason to persist with these memories. If you forget me once we’re unsummoned, or I forget you—no, I don’t even want to think about that. I’ve learned here that even a second life, bound by mages for the sake of the world, can be just as precious. Here I am, talking to my spiritual predecessor and loving him. I wouldn’t have received this privilege if I never became a heroic spirit.”

Gilgamesh said nothing, at first.

“You’re talking too much, but what else can I expect from a man who loves the sound of his own voice?”

“I’m simply stating the truth. Besides, are you telling me you don’t like my voice?”

“Hmph! You’re lucky I find it pleasing.”

Ozymandias could not help but laugh at that, the warm feeling between them sweeter than the drink at his side. For once in his life, Ozymandias fell silent, watching as the stars came out from the clouds and as the light of the sun finally dimmed. This certainly wouldn’t last forever, but in the moment, he could cherish it all he wanted. As long as he was here… as long as he was Chaldea’s Ozymandias, he could keep living between the brutal fights and the relaxing aftermath with Gilgamesh by his side.

It was Gilgamesh’s turn to ask him something.

“Can I expect poems from you?” He teased. “I heard you were quite the writer, once upon a time.”

“My poetry wouldn’t please you. You’re fond of more direct things, aren’t you?”

“Hm? Direct as in how?”

“You want to be kissed and touched instead of reading about how I’ll do both those things to you,” Ozymandias replied smoothly. “You prefer action over pretense. That much I know about you.”

“You think there’s no room in my treasury for a poem from Ozymandias himself?”

“What, like you’ll treasure it once we’re gone from Chaldea?”

A silence fell between them, and Ozymandias realized he was serious.

“… hahahaha! Sure, sure. I’ll write you something so that you can keep some memory of me, even if I’m sure you have plenty of relics from my heyday in your treasury that could remind you of me—”

“But none of them are _for_ me. Your poetry would be different.”

It was odd, seeing Gilgamesh want something he had given one of his previous wives, but he knew this man was all about taking whatever he could get. Maybe it was a sign he really treasured Ozymandias, and the man sighed and sunk into his chair. There was a notepad and pen on the table next to him, and he decided he’d use it to write.

At least a half-hour stretched between them as the pen made soft scratching noises on paper. Gilgamesh watched intently as he finished his wine, oddly eager for something written on such average paper and such a normal pen. Sometimes, Ozymandias would scratch things off and start over, before finally writing his final draft.

“Here,” He tore it from the notepad and handed it to Gil. “A gift from yours truly. Treasure it!”

Gil’s eyes followed the lines on the paper, got to the bottom, and went back up again, rereading it over and over. It was… something special, alright, just from the look on his face, Ozymandias could tell that for once in his second life, Gilgamesh was _awed_. Something so intimately written, just sitting on the beach while drinking? He could give Andersen a run for his money, and Shakespeare infinite inspiration.

“I see now.”

“You see what?”

“Why I was drawn to you in the first place.”

“Are you going to tell me why that is?”

“No,” Gilgamesh said, slipping the paper into his treasury. “I think I’ll let you find that out on your own.”

Ozymandias stood up from the lounge chair as Gilgamesh did as well, melting drink left dripping condensation onto the wooden table beside them. Gilgamesh caught the back of his head this time to draw him into a kiss. Pride did not allow him to cede any power to Ozymandias—but they were already on a level playing field.

He didn’t need to.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking commissions! I'm so glad I got to write this one, OzyGil is such good civ.
> 
> Details here: https://twitter.com/gilthurst/status/1294677042248679425


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